


Strappare

by R_Gunns



Series: Strappado; Strappare [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Ableism, Amputation, Gen, HYDRA Trash Party, Hydra (Marvel), M/M, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-22
Updated: 2014-11-22
Packaged: 2018-02-26 16:04:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2658074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/R_Gunns/pseuds/R_Gunns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Strappare, verb-</p><p>1. To tear or rip.<br/>2. <b>To pull off.</b></p><p>(Hydra found Steve. Now they find Bucky)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strappare

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to Strappado. For [this prompt](http://hydratrashmeme.dreamwidth.org/587.html?thread=1270091#cmt1270091) even though I didn't really fill it. Oops.

You think of Steve.  
  
Years pass and they catch up to you. They don’t even take you from Steve’s apartment, just tranq you and cuff you and stare and stare like you’re a rabbit before a pack of hounds. You think of Steve, asleep in his bed.  
  
This is planned; you realise very quickly, when the arm is removed, and knives are laid out and a small chainsaw is plugged in a socket. The grating whir is a memory, a promise.  
  
They don’t speak while they--  
  
There is dead silence but for the _whir_ of the saw and the sound of flesh--  
  
You cannot think over the pain but (you think of Steve, asleep in his bed. You are aware of saw cutting through bone and the last bit of flesh giving away and the _thud_ as your arm hits the floor)  
  
“There, now you’re symmetrical,” someone comments. You see a flash of rubbery pink skin: burn scars, of course. Then pain again, right foot. Again again _again_ the saw carves your flesh like a chisel carves marble (you think of Steve, asleep in his bed. You wonder if he dreams of art, like he used to. You wonder if he has anything other than nightmares anymore).  
  
You pass out for a time. Come to with a clamp around your eye and the wet _snip_ as scissors sever your optic nerve and blackness swallows you again.  
  
You wake up. You think of Steve, asleep in his bed. You think you think--  
  
The men are gone, you are abruptly aware. The men are gone, but people surround you; SHIELD agents clad in black and medics hovering at your periphery; Sam and Natasha at your feet removing the cuffs, making soothing sounds and  
  
_There_ : Steve, at the doorway to the bedroom. He’s naked and sleep-rumpled, shoulders hunched and shaking, his face crumpled in distress. He scratches at his throat like it itches (like there’s bugs), and you knows he’ll do it till he bleeds.  
  
Someone has evidently given you some sort of painkiller because you somehow manage to push the pain aside for a moment, to reach out with your goddamn metal arm the second Natasha reattaches it and say “Steve, Stevie, please stop-- It’s fine, we’re fine, the doctors are gonna take me to the hospital but Sam and Natasha will look after you, they’ll drive you there okay?”  
  
You don’t get to say much more as the medics are already surrounding you, tugging you onto a stretcher and out of the room. Before the ambulance doors close you catch a glimpse of Steve on the porch, Sam coaxing his hands away from his throat and Natasha behind him with a blanket.  
  
Then for a third time that day you let the darkness consume you.  
  
  
You are lucky they found you in time: the loss of an arm, a foot and an eye is really nothing compared to everything they had planned for you. Instead you get brand new limbs to match the one given to you by HYDRA. They can’t fix the eye. Stark takes to calling you ‘the bionic man’ and ‘Fury 2.0’.  
  
Months pass. The morning is cold and the bedroom air is chilly when you look at yourself for the first time. You study your body in the floor length mirror tucked away on the inside of the wardrobe (where Steve won’t see, won’t get frightened) and then Steve, asleep in the bed behind you. A matched pair. Now your mutilation is the physical manifestation of Steve’s mental disfigurement.  
  
Funny. Appropriate. You always were shadows of each other.


End file.
